


let me show you how a kiss should taste

by unnohrian (cuddlebros)



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/F, Hair Washing, Lesbian Sex, Older reader, Skinny Dipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-04-27 02:18:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14415519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlebros/pseuds/unnohrian
Summary: You help replace some of Mozu's more painful memories with happier ones.





	let me show you how a kiss should taste

**Author's Note:**

> I know (and hate) that Fire Emblem ages are vague, but in this fic Mozu is made explicitly of age, at around, I would suggest 22/23 years old (at least). 
> 
> Fic title from 'Daisy' by Zedd, because I'm still an uncreative hack.

The first thing people in the army learned about Mozu was that she was incredibly strong. They would assume, at first glance, that she was frail, or feeble, but with a spear in her hand she could do anything. And once they learned she was strong, they slowly came to depend on her.

Not only was she the backbone of the army’s farm work, she also managed to bring people little slices of their homes. Those tiny villages, so far removed from the clean, organized life of the castle and castle city, those places where people got by through their hard work, determination, and community spirit—she brought a little of those places back to the soldiers of the army.

And though it was all working wonderfully, you couldn’t help but worry about her. She was giving everyone so much, giving and giving, but she never really seemed to take. For once, you think, it would be good for her to be a little selfish. So when she starts orbiting around you, you let her, and try and fill in the parts of her that she shares so willingly with others.

She clings to you, not needy, but ever-present, and you could venture a guess as to why. You can imagine yourself resembling quite closely the mother she had only just lost, and honestly, she’s easy to feel motherly towards. She would take a gentle scolding about overworking herself on the chin, and beam like the brightest sunflower at praise for a job well done.

So, you take to giving back to her. Small things, like offering to help her wash in the springs, or preparing vegetables when it’s her turn in the kitchen. When she’s in the field, you keep an eye on her; not because she’s incapable, but because she refuses to admit to exhaustion. If she needs someone to have her back, you’re there.

It’s no surprise when you start feeling something other than motherly to her, but it’s tough all the same. Twenty years ago, she would have been the kind of girl you would have spent summer days rolling around with in the fields, the kind you would have snuck wine to in kisses you shared in the shadow of the setting sun. But she’s so young, and you know how she sees you—you won’t jeopardize that relationship.

Not of your own volition, at least.

* * *

On hot summer nights, some of the camp sneak out of the sweltering heat of the castle dorms, making good use of the clear night to journey to the nearby river. It’s too hot to want to bathe in the springs, and the view is always amazing—thick, undisturbed forest, made visible by the soft dusting of light the moon gives off, and large enough that everyone can find some privacy.

Which is why you’re slightly surprised to hear another pair of feet paddling in the shallows close to you, and even more so when the person reaches where the riverbed declines and begins to swim, slowly, out to you.

“Heya, [Y/N]! I saw your clothes by the bank, um, and I thought I’d come join ya’?”

“Of course, Mozu. I didn’t realise you could swim, though!”

“Oh! Yeah, my momma taught me when I was little. If you can’t afford a rod, your hands are just as good to wrangle some fish! Long as you can pick yourself back up once you fall in…”

You watch as she looks out towards the expanse of silent, still water in front of you, as her face falls a little with melancholy. It’s hard to imagine how she manages to keep going, what with the trauma she’d only just come out the other side of, but you admire her for it. Though all that strength doesn’t mean that she didn’t deserve a few moments to be weak.

“There was this one lake, ‘bout a coupla hours from my home. Sometimes there would be boar there, but some other times… I remember taking this soap I’d got for my birthday, real fancy—one of the older folk gave it to me—and my momma, she… she…”

“It’s okay,” you reassure her, gathering her into your arms. She’s a tiny thing, but she’s so far from frail—you know she’s letting you manoeuvre her, because you know she could choose just as easily to not budge an inch. Her nose burrows into one of your breasts, and soon cold drips are running down your skin, leaving salty trails in their wake. “The memories hurt, but I know they’re more important than anything. You can let it out, Mozu.”

She nods, and for a few moments, it’s only the two of you swaying gently to the sound of crickets chirping and Mozu’s croaking sobs.

“T-thank you… I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“You’re fine, honey,” you reassure her, running your thumbs under her eyes to wipe away the last dregs of her tears. “These things are better out than in. Believe me, I know.”

“I just… wish I could have some of those moments again.”

That gives you an idea. On the bank of the river, under the pile of your clothes, you had something that might help; a small gift to yourself that might just make a better gift for Mozu.

“Come,” you urge her, taking her hand and leading her to a spot where she could stand next to the rock of the bank, and wade out of the water. It’s easy to find the small cube within your clothes, and you come to sit just above Mozu in less than a minute, her head between your legs. Her hair is slightly wet already, soft and free of tangles when your fingers run through it. “You hair is so beautiful… you must take really good care of it.”

“Oh! Thank you! I, um, I try.”

You hold the small block of soap in front of her, about level with her nose. “I saved up some of my wages for this—give it a smell.”

“Smells like… oranges and summertime! It’s lovely!”

“Would you like it if I washed your hair, Mozu? I’ll be careful.”

“Oh! I couldn’t ask you to waste your fancy soap on lil’ ol’ me—”

“You’re not asking,” you laugh, “I’m offering. Come on, let me start.”

Obediently, she tilts her head back, into your lap, and you see the moon flash in the darks of her eyes, quick and sharp, before they flutter shut. For a moment, you drink in the look of her—how relaxed she is, though she’d been sobbing not five minutes ago. How composed she is, how soft she is with her head in your lap. How right she feels there.

Gently, you take sections of her hair, and work a lather into them. Soon, your fingers are threaded through her hair, working the soap right into the roots with a gentle massage, and— _oh_.

“S-sorry! I, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine, sweetie. Should I take it that you’re enjoying the massage, then?” She nods a little into your hands. “You know it’s nothing to be ashamed of, right, Mozu? No one else is out here, so if you feel good, you can let those noises right on out.”

When your fingers restart their movement on her scalp, Mozu lets a small moan past her lips once more, and you smile. It was nice to know she believed you, trusted you that things were okay. It meant a lot. So you keep going, keep your fingers pressing sure and steady into her scalp, let your thumbs rub relaxing circles at the base of her neck—and keep drinking in the small noises of appreciation she lets out.

“Y-you’re really good at this! Your hands are so warm…”

“Mmh,” you hum. “I’ve had a lot of practice. Where I used to live, we would wash each others’ hair regularly—you learn what feels good when you do it for a long time.”

“Did y’all use to give massages this good every time? ‘cause that musta been heavenly!”

You laugh, keeping it quiet so as not to break the serenity of the night. “Only if the girl was special. Not everyone gets this much attention from me, y’know.”

“O-oh. Oh!” Under your fingertips, you feel her skin warm, and you catch it as a blush runs right around to the back of her neck.

“You have nothing to worry about, honey. Just because you’re special to me, there’s no pressure on you—I expect nothing from you—”

“But I really like you too!” she blurts. “I—you’re so kind a-and sweet too, and you’re _so_ beautiful, and you always treat me so good, and—”

A quick kiss to her forehead stops her babbling, but only makes her blush that much worse. “Thank you, Mozu. You might want to rinse your hair right now, though.”

She ducks under the water, emerging like new, eyes shut, hair plastered to her skin. She had turned around underwater, and now she faces you, and you can see where the moonlight catches the curves of the water droplets as they trail down her skin, slow markers wending their way around her breasts, down the strong muscle of her stomach. It’s no secret to you that water makes women look magical, but Mozu is practically ethereal.

And this vision makes her way towards you, until she is standing between your open legs, looking up at you like you had pressed the moon into place, and there is no way you can stop yourself from kissing her. She may have been inexperienced, but she lets you lead the way, melting her lips against your own until her taste is yours, yours becoming hers.

“W-will you be gentle with me?”

“Of course, sweetie,” you assure her, your hands coming to rest reassuringly on the back of her neck. “We don’t do anything you don’t want to, and you tell me to stop if anything starts to feel bad, okay? Even if you’re uncomfortable—I want it to be good for you, Mozu. I want to be good _to_ you.”

Tears gather in her eyes once again, but this time she burrows close to you herself, finding comfort in the strength of your body. Her skin is cold from the water, but the places your bodies touch warm quickly.

“You—you don’t mind that I—I’ve never done this with another lady?”

“You don’t mind that I _have_?” She shakes her head. “I don’t mind about you either. But you’ve done something like this before?”

She nods, a little bashful. “When I came of age, thought it’d be… expected that I mess around with a couple boys in the village. They weren’t mean or anythin’, just…”

“Didn’t feel right?” you offer.

“Yeah. Never… never done this with someone I love before, though…”

“You’ll be a natural,” you reassure her.

With little guiding, her face turns back up to yours, and you kiss her again, less soft now, bringing your tongue out to swipe against her lips. She presses herself closer and closer to you, her hardened nipples pressing into your stomach. There’s just enough space for you to fit your hand over one of her breasts, and you toy with her nipple until little moans trickle into your kiss. Her hand mirrors your actions, and you smile into the kiss as she plays with you.

She pulls away from you slowly. “Can we… can we do some more?”

“Of course,” you assure her. She pulls herself up and onto the rock you’d been sitting on, until she’s straddling your lap. “Hold on to me, okay?” She does, and lets you flip your positions and lower her gently to the ground until you’re hovering over her. “Still good?”

She nods, breathlessly letting out a “never better”.

You give her a quick kiss, and then maneuver so that your head is right above her pussy, and yours is right by her mouth. “Just try and copy what I do, okay?” With her nod, you let yourself dive in.

The first lick of your tongue on her makes her jump, but she quickly relaxes under you. Long, flat strokes of your tongue have her whimpering, and you know you’re on the right track. This was new to her, so you didn’t want to overwhelm her too quickly, but you feel her getting wetter and sweeter on your tongue after not too long. She’s so soft, so clean from the water of the lake, you think you’ll be fine even if she doesn’t try to explore you.

And then, unexpectedly, you feel a tentative lick at your own cunt. Her first taste of you must have been great, because soon she throws all of her enthusiasm into her tongue, exploring you from clit to hole and back again so quickly you can’t even get the read of it. But she’s _good_ , not being too harsh in her enthusiasm, clearly paying attention to what’s getting the best reaction from you.

“ _Ah_ —you’re doing great, honey! You sure this is your first time?”

“Been told I’m a fast learner,” she jokes, parting from you only a little, still so close that you feel the huffs of her laugh against the slickness of you. It endears you more than you’d expect— _Mozu_ endears you more than you’d expect.

She’s _such_ a fast learner that you let yourself go further, dipping into her, searching for more and more of the taste of her. Around your tongue, she’s clenching and fluttering so much that you can tell she’s getting close—and you’re not far off either. Your peak was close, building faster and faster with quick flicks of her against your slit and sloppy circles of your clit—she goes after you like she’d wanted you for an age. Perhaps she has, you think—perhaps she’d wanted you just as badly as you’d wanted her.

Her hands on your cheeks pry you open for her, and you surprise yourself when you find yourself thinking that you don’t miss the feeling of fingers in you. With a strength you shouldn’t be surprised at, she pulls you down until you’re practically riding her face, and if your knees weren’t aching before from the hard rock below, they are now. It’s an awkward angle, but the things she’s doing to you make it worth it.

“Gods, Mozu—yes, _yes_ —”

She hums, and it resonates through you, but it takes only a few well timed flicks of her clit for those hums become groans as she reaches her release against your mouth. As you watch her writhe under you, you’re glad you had let her lay down; she would have collapsed on top of you, for sure.

Watching her as she falls apart under you, hearing her cries of pleasure and feeling her last desperate licks at your clit set you off as well, and soon you’re coming too, being careful not to smother her. You end up humping the air for a while as the feeling keeps coming in waves.

“That… that was _really_ good,” Mozu says when you collapse next to her. “Like, really really good. T-thank you, [Y/N].”

Your hand turns her head toward you, and you catch her in another kiss; one where you just about taste yourself on her breath, where your lips do the talking.

“You’re welcome, honey. You did a great job, too!”

“...can we do it again, some time? A-and not just this! I want to…can we… court? I’m doing this all backwards, I’m sorry! I just… you’re so…”

You let out a little laugh, not condescending, just fond.

“We can, Mozu. I’d be honoured.”

The look in her eye before she leans into you is one you’ll remember forever. And hopefully, the memory of the two of you in the moonlight would stay with her just as long.

**Author's Note:**

> From a suggestion from a lovely, lovely reader, who wanted to see an older reader (in their 40's / 50's) with anyone, but possibly Mozu. I found it kind of... challenging to add this explicitly, without sounding condescending/rude (because I'm very much 20 and know like, nothing) so I hope the fic touches on it enough. But a challenge is what I love from requests, so thank you for this suggestion!
> 
> This ended up a) a whole lot longer than I thought it would and b) a whole lot more sappy than I thought. (And the ending isn't great, so that's subject to change.) Just the way these things pan out, I guess. So not a huge amount of NSFW in this one, but hey. There's always the next one.
> 
> As always, you can find me at cuddlebros.tumblr.com, where I take suggestions, criticism (constructive, though!), and you can tell me if there are any mistakes (because this is totally un-beta'd and I edit while I am... Very Tired) or anything you see! (And I have a link to my ko-fi there now, too!)


End file.
